


Cold But Tough

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Kissing, Blood, Hypothermia, Lasky is confused as hell and John just goes right in for the kill, M/M, placed in a random setting / timeline. Don't ask questions... sshh... just... read lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lasky may have nearly frozen to death, but he's okay with that.<br/>Chief's not.</p><p>Cue those awkward feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold But Tough

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm... okay, why does nobody else ship these two?? My bro and I were talking about how fucking adorable these guys were in Halo 4 - but it's been A LONG WHILE since I've immersed myself in the Halo Lore... so uh... bear with me here guys.  
> I'm stressed out from college and just need to... write... these dorks.  
> Unedited, and written in docs so grammar could be off in a some areas.

Heavy footsteps thud against the snowy floor, leaving behind the tearing gusts of wind in favor of entering a more sheltered environment. Even through his armor, Master Chief could feel the winds chilling effects tingling over his skin.

He wasn’t even sure how the others would have fared against such brutal cold, and thought that even the covenant would shiver in their chrome armor. Last time he had seen Lasky, they were stuck together on an impressively large machine, rolling through the dusty desert in search of the didact.

Now it was different. The mountaintop howled night and day, and the snow was so fine and icy that it felt like tiny shards of glass wherever it hit any exposed skin. Cortana had frequently offered up her concern whenever she spoke of their environment, but John wouldn’t let himself get disheartened yet.

Not until more bodies showed up.

Either way, he still had a duty to uphold. They needed Lasky back. Dead or alive.

They were getting paranoid again, and John found it almost laughable. It was as if they were afraid that the covenant could extract secrets from Thomas’ corpse.

But with the technology around them changing every year, the spartan doubted that the idea hadn’t come up already.

Shaking his head, the large man lets out a puff of warm air against his helmet, watching it briefly fog up the sight-plate before it cleared.

“Any signs of him?” John asks quietly, never having to raise his voice with Cortana so near.

The AI hums for a moment, narrowing down their location again. “I-I ha-ave,” She clears her voice, embarrassed by her decomposing code, “I’ve got something. A ping from a radio came from somewhere nearby.” While John looks around, she adds, “He’s got to be in here, Chief.”

Soon he leaves the mouth of the enclosure, venturing deeper into the depths of a long lost structure, old enough to be Forerunner technology. What it was doing out here, in the middle of nowhere, was beyond him.

The light on his helmet automatically clicks to life as the area darkens around them, and John instinctively tightens his hold on the rifle in his hands. He sees the blood before the bodies.

Tall-tale, bright blue blood of a Grunt, splattered messily across the ground. Next is the deep, wine color of a Jackal, not quite dark enough to be that of an Elite.

No bodies yet, just blood.

“This looks like Lasky’s handiwork.” Cortana notes while the spartan continues forth, spurred on now by the promise of perhaps finding the naval officer alive.

It goes on like that for a while. Deeper and deeper they travel into the place, and only find blood. Lots of it. The bodies had been dragged away by something, or someone.

Chief doubts Lasky would collect bodies, as it would serve him little in the freezing environment. Soon though, he finds him.

The officer was standing there in the center of a small, bright room off of the main hallway. Inside were three grunts, and an Elite, sprawled out where they had fallen, dead.

“Lasky,” Chief starts, pausing as he gets a better look at him.

“Well, that’s one way to keep warm.” Cortana quips in his ear, trying to take the gross-factor out of the equation.

They’d seen worse.

Thomas was absolutely covered in blood. His hands and face had been smeared with it, the bright blue and the wine colored substance drying on his skin slowly, thicker than human blood. Meant it could help keep him warmer, longer.

The thin suit he wore was not at all suitable for these kinds of conditions, but after his bird had to crash land thanks to the weather, John knew better than to berate such a foolish error.

Along the way, the man had tore off any and all clothes he had seen. An ancient, rotting banner became a fitting cloak around him, pressed tight against the exposed skin of his throat and just long enough to hide his hands in.

He didn’t look good though. Even with all the blood painted across him, the AI and the spartan could tell that he was freezing. Shaking like a leaf in the room, pale and sleepy.

“Captain Lasky.” John tries again, stepping closer and holding up a hand in defense when Thomas finally comes back into awareness, his pistol snapping up. “Easy there, Captain. We’ve been looking for you.”

Lasky lets out a slow, curious sound at the sound of John’s voice, his gun lowering. He still hadn’t said a word.

“Hypothermia setting in, Chief. We need to get him back.” Cortana reminds him urgently, trying to think of a good way to get him back to a safe zone for the pelican - without freezing him to death along the way.

John strides closer, looming over Lasky worriedly. “Captain, are you injured?”

The man finally grumbles something, slurring, “‘m good,” in a very unprofessional manner. Chief knew from many years with the man that Lasky was a trained professional, and held himself with the utmost of composure.

“Okay,” The spartan nods, not quite sure what to do about this. “We need to head back, can you follow me?”

Lasky gives him an odd nod, too curt, too unsteady.

It isn’t only until Thomas tries to move that Chief knows they're in trouble. Instead of taking a step closer, Lasky’s leg dragged, his coordination off tenfold as he wavered like a newborn lamb. The man’s head lolls to the side, clinging onto the edges of awareness.

Chief manages to secure his hand around Lasky’s elbow, holding him up when he finally gives into the effects of being in such a punishing environment for so long. Cortana found it impressive that he even managed to survive this long, given that he had never undergone genetic modification.

Awkwardly, Chief settles the Captain onto the ground, crouching besides him to watch for the steady rise and fall of his chest. “This is bad.” He says grumpily, only relieved once he realizes that the man was still breathing. “There is no way we can take him back out there. He’s freezing.”

Large fingers find the man’s throat, doing his best to count the pulse there.

It’s weak, but it’s still there.

“We can’t get a bird in the sky out in this.” Cortana huffs, her mind racing. They were trapped on a mountain, inside ancient technology, with a vicious storm clawing at the walls and their captain slowly freezing to death.

She almost wanted to laugh. It was so much easier to come up with a solution when they were under gunned and outnumbered.

The AI couldn’t help but to think that she’d be more of use if her coding wasn’t surrendering slowly to rampancy.

Chief lets out a growl as he ran his thumb idly against Lasky’s chilled cheek, brushing aside dried blood to reveal the worryingly pale skin underneath.

“I got it,” Cortana finally says, whirling back to life inside Chief’s subsystems. “But you aren’t going to like this…”

“Do it,” John says without hesitation, not even waiting to hear the plan.

He was going to bring Lasky back.

-:-

It’s hard.

Waking up after being under for so long.

The first thing he truly realizes is that it’s warm. So much warmer than the last thing he remembered.

Lasky gives an irritated groan as he opens his eyes, getting a facefull of bright light for his troubles. Squeezing his brown eyes shut again, the naval officer does his best to assess himself.

He couldn’t feel any immediate pain, but knew that it could be either a good or bad thing. Next, he tested his hands, squeezing them slowly and grunting as he accidently pulled against an IV nestled deep into his skin.

Finally, he opened his eyes again, craning his neck to get a good look at himself.

He’d been stripped of his usual uniform, and instead was now placed in something warm and grey. Despite his confusion, he was glad that he wasn’t dressed in the standard green robes.

Included on his bedding was a thick blanket, draped over his form nearly up to the chin.

Swallowing, he blinked again, swiveling his head to take in the room. It was small, but it served a good purpose for any recovering soldier. There was an IV drip by his bed, offering a plain saline solution, if Lasky was to guess.

There were no windows or doors, merely a green screen slide across the small opening of the room.

Running a hand over the blanket, Thomas let out a little huff before trying to relax again, even if he was itching to get up and figure out how the hell he got here.

-:-

The next time he saw Chief was four days later, as he walked down into the hanger. Several birds and a few soldiers were docked at the station, an organized mess of battle armor and supplies.

John was busy loading up his rifles near a pelican, cleaning and sighting in the worn weapon with a machine-like concentration. Nobody dared to bother him, and the soldiers who flanked him seemed thankful to be excused as Lasky waved them off.

Clearing his throat, Lasky offered Chief a smile as he announced himself with a, “Leaving so soon, Master Chief?”

“They need us elsewhere,” John said quietly, looking so much different without his helmet on. Light brown hair was cropped close to his scalp, and his blue eyes were marked with the beginnings of wrinkles. He had a scar under his lip, and another, deeper one on his cheek.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that John was _human_ beneath it all. Underneath all the armor and the bloodshed, he was still a man.

Lasky tried not to feel stung that the man hadn’t even turned around to regard him, and the captain reminded himself that Chief’s mind was filled with so much. The didact creeping closer, his AI companion running rampant, and the pivotal role he - once again - played in humanity's well being.

Cortana gazed at him from her platform by the pelican, her body slightly distorted by static. “C-Captain Lasky,” She noted, a brief smile on her lips. “I’m glad to see that you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded, brown eyes darting between the two of them. The impossibly large spartan and the conveniently tiny program. “Thanks to you two, that is.” He crossed his arms and widened his stance, asking, “How the hell did you even manage to get us back?”

“I never kiss and tell,” Cortana said playfully, but Lasky knew that they’d probably never really speak of it. He’d apparently been in pretty bad shape by the time they got him here, nearly frostbitten in some areas and severely unresponsive.

But he was alive.

He couldn’t even feel the effects of nearly freezing to death. The doctors had told him he was lucky, but Thomas knew he was just hardy - maybe even foolhardy.

“Well,” He shrugged one shoulder, eyes flickering to Chief, “I’m grateful.”

John merely grunted in response, setting aside the weapon and finally glancing towards Lasky. Thomas smiled at him, just a little, in response. The taller man just stared at him, lips thinned and eyes calculating.

Lasky’s smile faded, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Maybe he was overestimating their friendship - if one could even call it that.

Clearing his throat, he tightened his composure, trying to hide his childish behavior from earlier. “Either way, Chief, I owe you one. I’m here if you need anything - Infinity and her crew will do their best to help bring the Didact down.” Lasky nodded, ready to turn and take his leave, but Master Chief made him pause with an odd grumble.

“Just,” The man reached for his helmet, grabbing the edge of the green and golden plating, “Just promise me one thing, Captain.” John said quietly, a smirk curling on his lips.

Lasky leaned forwards despite himself, amazed by the emotion settling over John’s features. “Yeah?” He asked, ready and willing to promise the spartan the world.

Cortana had no use for oxygen, but she held her breath anyways - a habit she’d developed from years of observing humans. Chief’s fingers suddenly secured themselves around Lasky’s collar, his thumb brushing the golden medals there before he pulled the younger man closer.

A small, startled sound left Lasky as he went up onto the tips of his toes, losing balance before he smacked his hands out on the thick armor Chief wore in hopes of retraining his center of gravity.

However, all worries about falling over suddenly were thrown right out the window of his mind as he felt Chief… kissing… him.

His lips were dry, a bit chapped, but warm and desperate. John was never good with things like _this_ \- he was made for killing, defending and surviving. Not kissing, not _emotions_.

It was brief, and shocking, and Chief left Lasky standing there with his mouth agape and cheeks slowly reddening as the spartan turned and locked his helmet into place.

“Don’t do anything stupid like that again, Sir.” Skilled fingers popped the AI’s chip back into his helmet before he grabbed his weapons.

“I think you broke him, Chief.” Cortana quipped inside his helmet, her calming voice settling his rattled nerves. Underneath the safety of his golden visor, the man was also burning up inside, but he’d be damned if he let anyone else notice.

Lasky, to his credit, recovered quicker than they had realized, and he stood straighter at attention before saying, “I’ll try not to freeze my ass off next time, Chief.”

As John looked down at Thomas and saw the initial embarrassment fading from his features, the spartan felt at ease.

“Good,” The spartan nodded, glancing back towards his pelican.

“You best get going,” Lasky said, raising a brow. “Don’t worry, Master Chief.” He held his head up higher, a self-assured grin growing on his lips, as the naval officer concluded, “Infinity and her crew are here if you need us. We are not going anywhere.”

_I’m not going anywhere._

They stood there for another moment, taking it all in before each man nodded and went their separate ways.

“Well… that happened,” Cortana started, a giggle echoing inside his helmet. “I didn’t even realize-”

John shrugged, “We have work to do, Cortana.”

“Alright,” The woman sighed, humor still playing in her tone as she stated, “You need to get me to Dr. Halsey soon.”

“I will.” John promised, his own voice serious.

“Because I have _got_ to see how the hell _that_ is going to play out when we get back.” The AI said with a chuckle as John merely heaved a groan.

**Author's Note:**

> TAA-DAA.  
> Just a couple of dudes being guys.
> 
> I am... really, honestly, beat up about the lack of John/Thomas shippers. Like... ouch? (Thankfully there are plenty of Cortana/John shippers! *doki doki*)
> 
> Anybody else ship these two or am I literally the only person in the fandom?? :'[
> 
> Anyways... Lasky is too cute so I froze him and then John tries to thaw him... uhh yep. That's the story. Short and sweet, good practice. I'm still rusty.
> 
> Sorry if they were a OOC... like I said, college has scrambled me and I haven't had the chance to replay the games much at all. :C It's honestly just an indulgent fic... :>
> 
> Hope you liked - comments are appreciated.


End file.
